


Coney Island Kettle Corn

by HerdingCats



Category: Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Crack, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, My First Fanfic, Reader Has Powers, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 14:50:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19153240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerdingCats/pseuds/HerdingCats
Summary: In a world with humans that can go toe to toe with literal Gods being able to sense the emotions of others seems like a trivial ability. It’s not until the Winter Soldier crashes into your life that you get dragged into the chaos that is the world of the Avengers.





	1. Karens Absolutely Do Not Wait

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work I’m putting out into the universe and I absolutely do not know what I’m doing but if you want to take this journey with me you are more than welcome. I’m always open to criticism and suggestions. Thank you for being here!

I watch a little boy run through the exhibit, popcorn falling as he bumps into a man who seems to be in a trance in front of one of Cap's old suits on display. The man has been here at least three times this week and it's only Tuesday, each time he's in the same worn brown leather jacket and a faded black ball cap pulled low over his eyes.

"You must really be into Captain America," I say craning into the man's view.

He stiffens before nodding once, "you could say that."

I straighten up bringing my gaze back to the suit on display, it's nowhere near the level of the suits heroes wear these days but it still holds a comforting charm that seems to warm the people around it. Too bad it doesn't seem to be helping whoever this is. "If you have any questions feel free to ask me or any of the other curators and please enjoy your visit." The man gives me a curt nod and I turn to finish making my round throughout the gallery when I feel something settling into my bones. It's so… cold. Why is it cold? The readings of the museum are all normal and no one else seems to notice anything. A feeling of dread begins crawling up my spine as I finally see it, a slight glint of something at the edge of one of the skylights. What is that?

 

A gun.

 

There's the muted sound of a single gunshot and then the display holding Captain America's suit shatters. Shards of glass join the forgotten popcorn on the floor only to be crunched beneath the boot of the mystery man as he spins to assess the situation. My boss comes on over the speaker system, "Everyone please remain calm, there is a small situation but the authorities have already been alerted and they are on their way," easier said than done.

I really don't like using my ability if I don't have to but this seems like the kind of situation you can break rules for. I push my consciousness outwards, up at first, feeling along the ceiling before seeping to the other side. Whoever was on the roof is long gone but the malice and frustration remain clouded at the edge of the skylight like a thick miasma. Then I feel out towards the people on in the exhibit, there's a lot of confusion naturally, some sadness, pockets of fear that feel like shards of ice pricking at my skin, then I reach the mystery man and sink into an abyss.

The man is filled with a torrent of emotions and empty at the same time. It knocks the wind out of me as I stumble back and try to keep my knees from buckling.

"What are you doing," he snaps at me.

I try again to steady myself, pulling my consciousness back within the safety of my own body, "I'm afraid I'm not sure what's going on but I believe my boss said the proper authorities are on their way".

I'm rubbing at my temples trying to will away the headache that's forming when the man grips onto my upper arm. Everyone else is too busy looking one another over or checking their phones for some sort of update to notice as he begins dragging me towards one of the emergency exits.

"That's not what I asked," his grip tightens and he pulls me closer to him.

"Attention everyone, I would like you all to calmly proceed to the nearest exit. The police will be taking statements and we will be closing the museum until we receive the go ahead to open things back up. I do apologize for the inconvenience, our curators will be out front distributing complimentary day passes so that you might continue your visit another day. Again we do apologize and enjoy the rest of your day."

After the announcement concludes everyone begins milling out of the main exit, "let's go". "What? Where are we going?"

He adjusts his grip as he begins making his way to a side exit with me in tow, "I don't know what you did and I don't like unknowns."

Finally the stupor of using my powers begins to ebb away, "listen I know just about as much as you do about what's going on, now if you'll excuse me I need to hand out complimentary day passes before I get hounded by Karens asking to see my manager."

The emergency exit door swings open and he continues pulling me along an alleyway, "the day passes will have to wait."

"No you don't understand, Karens absolutely do not wait," God I can already feel the sludge at the tips of my fingers and on my tongue, I still haven't figured out what emotion that is but dear God it makes me want to scrub my soul with dawn soap. Maybe if I'm lucky my boss will just fire me.


	2. In this Dream, We’re Lovers

We finally arrive to a little dingy motel. The room only has on chair that doesn't match the table, a bed, a dresser and a TV on top of it that looks like it's old enough to get a senior discount. The man pulls me down into the chair, oh great it's rickety, and sits at the edge of the bed. He leans forward, "what were you doing."

"My job? I'm a museum curator." Dammit my arm is definitely going to bruise.

"You know damn well that isn't what I'm talking about. Who are you working for?" His jaw clenches and I finally see the rest of his face; blue eyes, stubble, defined jawline, a few scars, wait.

 

"Bucky."

Bucky leaps to his feet and grabs the collar of my shirt, "who the hell do you work for."

Shit. I've been kidnapped by the Winter Soldier or Bucky? He isn't speaking in Russian and hasn't killed me yet so it's likely he isn't the Soldier now. I know the documents leaked from S.H.I.E.L.D state that he has somewhat broken free from the brainwashing he underwent.

"I asked you a question and I will not be asking you again. Now answer me so I don't have to use other means to get my answers."

 

“Listen kid, I’m not working for anyone, especially now that you dragged me away from my post in the middle of whatever the hell all of that was. Now would you stop fucking manhandling me.” I lean back into the chair ignoring his hold on my collar, “dude do I fucking look like I work for you need to be worried about.”

 

Bucky releases his hold on me and retakes his seat at the foot of the bed, “alright, you aren’t working for anyone. That still doesn’t explain what the hell you did back at the museum.”

 

I try to conceal the shock on my face, “You felt that? I was scanning the room.”

“What do you mean you scanned the room?”

“I mean I felt around to make sure no one else was lurking around to do bad shit. This is a first, the only people that have been able to feel my power in use have typically been in diapers or had fur coats.”

“What exactly is this ‘power’ you have.”

“This can only mean one thing, Are you part dog?”

“What the hell kind of question is that?! No I am not part dog.”

“Would you like to be? Personally I think being part cat would come in handy more but dogs are pretty dope too,” I muse out loud.

 

Bucky runs both hands down the front of his face, “dear god I’ve kidnapped a crazy person.”

“AHAH! So you do admit this is kidnapping!” I exclaim as I jump to my feet.

“I never said it wasn’t!”

“Well good then, we have an agreement. Now this was fun but I really should get back to my Karens, if I please enough of them maybe I won’t get fired,” brushing my pants off I make my way to the door as it swings open.

 

“I take everything back brother, this visit to Midgard was absolutely worth my time,” Loki muses from the doorway. Thor scratches his head as he looks at Bucky and I, “this is the most confusing pillowtalk I’ve had the misfortune of witnessing. What in Valhalla is going on here Barnes?”

“Wait. You think he and I were— god this is amazing.”

“Oh I agree little mortal,” Loki chimes in as he leans against the doorway with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

“Too bad this is one thousand percent a fever dream and I’m going to wake up any second now.”

 

Thor turns his confused gaze back to Bucky, “your presence is needed back at the Avengers tower my friend. What would you like to do with your friend here?”

“Ok she is definitely not my friend—,”

“That’s right, in this dream we’re lovers! I don’t get how you two fit in but I appreciate the comedic quality that Loki is bringing to this situation.”

Loki places a hand over his heart, “oh I appreciate you too dear mortal, you are quite the entertainment.”

 

Bucky runs his hands down his face again, “she has some sort of power or ability she used back at the museum during the incident but she hasn’t exactly been forthcoming.”

Thor gives Bucky and I each a hearty slap on the back, “that settles it! She shall accompany us to the tower until we can ascertain the nature of her existence!”


	3. Secure the Fridge

Ascertain the nature of my existence? What kind of philosophical mumbo jumbo is that. Well at least in my dream this little jet has snacks on it. I slip another pretzel into my mouth as I look over Bucky’s shoulder at the controls and out the window, “So what kind of crisis did my psyche conjure up this time? Because if it’s zombies again I swear I’m going to lose my shit.”

“Your mind has the ability to conjure the undead?” Thor exclaims as he gives me a once over.

“Well yeah anything can happen in dreams,” dammit I’m almost out of pretzels.

“Oh this is delightful, the mortal truly believes she’s unconscious.” 

“Hey you weasel,” I crumple the pretzel bag and stuff it into my pocket because my mom did not raise a litterer, “this ‘mortal’ has a name.”

Loki arches an eyebrow, “Oh, and what might that be?”

“I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.”

  
  


“Abigail Brennan, 24. Originally from Providence, Rhode Island. Graduated, with honors, from UC Berkeley with a degree in History,” Tony rattles off the second we walk through the door.

 

My eyes widen as I stumble backwards, “wow you really got everything.”

A smirk settles on his face as he begins typing away on his tablet again and relaxes on the couch next to Clint, “don’t look too surprised kid that’s what I’m here for.”

“Except my peanut allergy.”

His typing slows and his brows furrow, “oh? I wonder how that slipped by.”

“Annnnnd the rest of that is fake.”

Clint snorts as Tony stops typing altogether and glares at me, “what do you mean ‘that’s fake’”.

“The information is fake,” I look around at the room taking in the modern decor that isn’t necessarily to my tastes but it’s fitting given the setting, “I’m pretty sure you guys call it an alias.”

Clint bites down on his lip to keep from laughing, “yes I  _ know _ what an alias is kid I’m a  _ certified genius _ . The question is why the hell do you have one.”

“Traditionally aliases are used to hide from a person or persons.” Is that a fridge? That  _ is _ a fridge. Dream me is an angel, all I’ve had since breakfast have been those pretzels on the plane.

Clint is full body laughing at this point, “Listen here smartass you need to start answering questions or I will have Friday lockdown every piece of food in this tower. I see the look you’re giving my fridge.” Tony rounds on Clint, “and YOU, you are on  _ my _ couch you are  _ not _ allowed to laugh at me.”

  
  



	4. Banner, Loki, and an Empath Walk into a Bar

I grab a glass from the counter and fill it with some water then lean back against the counter facing the living room where the two Avengers are squabbling. “Alright alright, sheesh I bet you guys don’t argue like this in real life. I need to watch less sitcoms.”

Tony narrows his eyes at me, “What do you mean ‘in real life’?”

I straighten back up, accidently knocking my glass off the edge of the counter, “Shit, I’m sorry just give me a sec and I’ll clean that up.” I crouch down and begin placing the larger shards in my palm carefully but of course I still manage to cut myself.

All eyes are on me as I raise my pointer finger to the light, watching the blood well up, “this isn’t a dream is it.”

Loki hands me a wet towel and brings me back up to a standing position, “No my dear mortal it isn’t. Welcome back to reality.”

 

There is rarely anything welcoming about reality. I snort and look around the table at the faces of the Avengers; Thor is reclined against the doorway appraising me, Bucky is to my left, leaning back so far it’s to the point that he’s barely at the table to begin with, Loki is to my right and looking at me the same way my cat used to look at butterflies she managed to trap beneath her paws, Clint’s directly across from me and seated next to a brooding Tony. “So Ms. Brennan, what's with the alias.”

“Would you believe me if I said it was to avoid some nosey family members?”

From the corner of my eye I can see the scowl deepen on Bucky’s face, “no.”

Closing my eyes I inhale and there’s the overwhelming smell of spearmint — frustration — I don’t exactly blame them.

Well here goes nothing, “my real name is Y/n L/n and I’m originally from the west coast. I have the alias because there are some people that are dead set on involving me in their... activities.”

Tony quirks an eyebrow, “Activities? What ‘activities’?”

“Well they started out with scamming people at casinos but I know things were going to escalate in all the wrong ways soon enough. So I did the only logical thing. I faked my own death!”

Bucky snorts, his chair scraping as he pushes it back to get up, “They were shaking down casinos so you freaked out and faked your own death? Tell me you guys aren’t believing this.”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me I’m lying,” I level my gaze at him, “things may not seem like that big a deal to you but _you_ try being a 17 year old girl at the centerpoint of a bunch of tryhard gangsters.”

“Alright let’s all calm down, Y/n. What about you caught the attention of this gang,” Clint shoots a look at Bucky trying to get him to sit back down.

“I didn’t really catch their attention so much as a person I trusted was trying to ingratiate themself to them. Long story short they stopped seeing me as a friend and started seeing me as a means to climb ranks.”

Bucky crosses his arms and continues glaring at me, “You still haven’t said what made you so ‘valuable’ to them in the first place. What do you do.”

“I can sense and manipulate emotions,” I give a little mock bow, “Y/n L/n resident empath at your service.”

“Interesting,” a devious little smile begins forming on Loki’s face, “would you care to give us a little demonstration? Feel free to use my brother as your guinea pig.”

Tony crosses his arms and rolls his eyes, “Of course you couldn’t you have been a fireslinger or something easier to quantify. There is no metric for emotion, where’s Banner when you need him.”

Loki pales, “I am perfectly fine with not having your Hulk in the same room as someone who can _literally_ manipulate emotions.”

“Oh man I hadn’t even thought of that. Does that make me the strongest avenger?”

“You,” Tony jabs his finger in my direction, “are NOT an Avenger.”

“I say we welcome her aboard, she has a much higher entertainment value than the lot of you,” Loki says nonchalantly.

Tony sputters, “ **You aren’t an Avenger either, jackass.** ”

“Rock, paper, scissors?" Clint offers.

“No, for the love of — kid just show us what the hell you can do so I can lock myself in my workshop and start repressing the memory of this conversation.”  
Steve walks into the room giving everyone a little wave before making a beeline for the fridge, “Oh hey guys, new Avenger?”

**“NO!”**


	5. Jem and the Holograms

It's times like these I wish I was something simpler like a mind reader. All you have to do to prove that is answer a few questions. I mean sure you could just read the emotion of the person in front of you but telling someone you know that they're bored or confused doesn't prove anything beyond the fact that you have observation skills. You could also manipulate their emotions but nudging someone towards happiness won't make them a believer either. The easiest way is to force an intense and otherwise unexplainable emotion onto the person; grief, fear, rage, horror, all of these work but it's kind of fucked up to make someone go through that-- especially when you take into consideration their current emotional health. There are pockets of trauma all throughout this tower; heavy, numbing, cold trauma that weighs down your soul. I don't want to add anything else bad to that.

I've got it.

Tuning out the bickering in the room I pull at swells of pink within my mind, it feels like satin between my fingertips. Then I push my consciousness outwards, bringing the pastel satin with me. The room fills with the smell of roses and warm pastries, vanilla and coconut, I can hear the waves of the ocean crashing against the shoreline and the faint humming of a song I know is familiar but can't quite place.

I crack open one eye and take in the bewildered expressions around me. Bucky is the first one to speak, "you- what emotion is this?"

"It's nostalgia," Steve answers as he closes the refrigerator door behind him, "how are you doing this. Did Stark make some sort of gas compound or something."

"Oh please, you and I both know Tony wouldn't know how to make something this pleasant." 

"This is character assassination, I absolutely have the capability of making pleasant things. However, the man bird is correct, this is not of my doing."

I giggle as I pull the blanket of emotion back within me, "even when you guys are drunk on nostalgia with a hint of bliss you still manage to bicker like children." The room begins to tilt and sway, almost as if we were on the ocean, then everything fades to black.

 

Waking up my head feels as though its filled with cotton, "God that is definitely one of my top ten worst naps." Bucky shoots his hand out in front of me before I finish attempting to sit up, "I'm not sure passing out qualifies as napping." 

Now that I'm fully awake I take a moment to look around. Monitors are beeping and my eyes widen when I see they've already ran an IV line. "Hey Bucky? Is there- Where are we?"

He quirks an eyebrow and flits his eyes to the heart rate monitor before answering, "the medical ward. You've been unconscious for almost fourteen hours now."

“Cool,” I begin pulling the wires off of myself with shaking hands, “can we be anywhere but here.” 

 

I take a deep breath and look out over the horizon, Bucky ended up leading me to a balcony with a view of the forest surrounding the Avengers tower. 

Bucky leans forward onto the railing and fixes his gaze dead ahead; you don’t need powers to tell he’s fight off some real tension— his clenched jaw is a dead give away. For a moment I consider helping rid him of that tension but it doesn’t feel like my place — and the last time I used my powers without letting him know beforehand I ended up getting kidnapped. “So. Not a fan of hospitals?”

“Does anyone actually like hospitals?” I lean against the railing next to him, “Thank you for staying, you didn’t have to.”

“Yeah well I kind of owe you an apology so it made sense to stick around.”

“Is that so?” I nudge him with my shoulder, “I won’t lie I would’ve ghosted on you after the first hour or so.”

A little smirk forms on his face, “you must suck at apologies.”

I give an exaggerated gasp and clutch my chest, “you take that back sir! My apologies are always exquisitely heartfelt.” I sniff and look away, “the only reason I said that in the first place is because you look like a snorer.”

He snorts, “oh yeah you suck at apologies big time.”

 

“Hey, earlier when you did that thing—,” 

“Influenced everyone’s emotions?”

“Yeah… I was wondering why the room started smelling like Coney Island’s kettle corn.”

“Oh? Nostalgia smells like kettle corn to you? That’s kind of adorable.”

The tips of his ears start turning red, “just forget it.”

“No don’t be embarrassed, it’s nice. Everyone has a slightly different experience when I influence their emotions, some people feel a change in temperature, others may smell something like kettle corn, but most people don’t notice anything abnormal at all.”

“What about you?”

“How do I experience emotions? That’s a really meta question,” I bite my nail for a moment then prop my head up in my palm, “would it be douchey of me to say completely?”

Bucky lets out a laugh, "only a little bit."

 

A knock sounds from the glass balcony door, "I'm glad to see you're up and about again Y/n," Steve says from the doorway, "you sure know how to make a first impression."

Bucky's laughter stops and his expression slowly becomes detached, "I should go see what Stark wanted before he blows a gasket."

Steve steps aside and waits for Bucky to leave, "did he- did he say anything to you?"

"Not really. I mean he apologized and said I probably give shit apologies," I give Steve a little nudge with my elbow. 

He gives a little half smile but keeps looking past me, "Just let me know if he does, ok? Please."

I give him a reassuring smile and squeeze his shoulder, "I can do that."

He takes a deep breath and finally looks at me again, "I actually was sent to fetch you for Tony."

I grimace, from what I know Tony isn't exactly the type to be ok with patients preemptively discharging themselves. But, I was never his patient to begin with! Right? Right. I'm so screwed.

Steve laughs and rests his hand on my shoulder, "Why do I feel as if I just watched the 5 stages of grief cross your face."

"I have an expressive face ok! It's a blessing and a curse. I can't lie to save my life."

"I don't think that's a curse at all. I, for one, find it endearing," he gives my shoulder a little squeeze, "too bad Tony is going to kill you. C'mon shortstack."

"Shortstack?! Oh no you did not. Need I remind you I worked at your museum old man. Don't make me bust out the og medical charts and expose your ass," I say as Steve leads me into the elevator. 

"'OG'? That means original right? I'm actually impressed they managed to keep those intact. I don't know if you've ever seen a government filing system but they are really something else."

"Oh yeah I've had to sift through those fossilized dumpster fires on more than one occasion for work." The elevator stops on one of the upper levels and we step out into a large sunken lounge. 

Tony hops off the pool table by the window and storms over to us, "YOU."

I give a little nervous laughter and point to myself, "Me?!"

Tony narrows his eyes, “Now listen closely because I’m only going to say this once. I am the resident bad boy here that flaunts protocol, but it's ok because you all love me for it.” Clint rolls his eyes and Banner hides his face in his hands, “that means the next time you get antsy and want to take a stroll you call Banner or I to get discharged. The  **_proper_ ** way.”

“The only take-away I got from that is you expect me to end up in the medical ward again. Is now a bad time to mention I probably don’t have health insurance anymore because Bucky got me fired.”

Wanda chucks a throw pillow at Bucky with her mind, “so not only did you adult nap her, you also got this poor woman fired?”

Bucky deflects the pillow and it ends up smacking a napping Wilson in the face, “I apologized about that!”

Wilson chucks the throw pillow at Tony, “is that your way of telling me the meeting started? Because there are much easier ways for you to get my attention.”

"Really? Out of all the idiots here you think  _ I'm _ the one throwing pillows around like this is a generic 1980's slumber party pillow fight scene."

"So is that a rhetorical question or are you hoping I'll lie to you," Sam quips.

Clint raises his hand, "just for the record I have dibs on Molly Ringwald's character if we ever do the movie thing."

"Back off Clint, you aren't even a redhead," Natasha says as she smacks him in the chest.

"And you aren't the only redhead! Besides, who's to say Molly Ringwald would even actually be in this film," Wanda points out.

Tony scoffs and rolls his eyes, "it's the 80's, OF COURSE Molly Ringwald is in the film."

"Who the hell is this Molly person anyways," Bucky chimes in from his perch atop the couch.

"WHAT?!"

"Uhhh hello, does the Breakfast Club ring a bell."

"Sixteen Candles??"

"Jem and the Holograms?"

"Who the  _ fuck _ just said  **Jem and the Holograms** ."

 

I scooch over to Bucky who's still perched atop the couch only now he's also watching the chaos unfold, "So. Do you really not know who Molly Ringwald is?"

Bucky snorts, "of course I know who Molly Ringwald is. I've been frozen for the last 70 years, not dead."

"I have more questions than answers."


	6. 0/10 You Didn’t Even Get to First Base

“Alright guys,” Steve claps his hands together, “we can discuss whatever all of this is later. Right now we need to debrief what happened back at the museum. Bucky, you were on the ground, what did you see?”

“Not much of anything. Whoever took the shot has shit aim but they definitely weren’t an amateur.”

“Was there any other activity at the scene?”

Tony plays a projection of the surveillance footage, “here’s what the museum handed over plus a little extra.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, “are you telling me my boss withheld footage of an active shooting? God that man is such a weasel.”

Tony continues flicking through the footage, “the man’s an idiot, he’s probably afraid we’re going to try and sue him. Oh, by the way, he said you’re fired.”

“He can’t fire me, **I quit!** Wait no, I want to collect unemployment. Oh no I’ve been fired, how tragic, what _ever_ shall I do.”

“I did some looking around and I can tell you this much, this wasn’t planned. Well, at least not in the typical sense,” Natasha projects her own footage. The grainy film shows Bucky walking into the museum then Natasha zooms in on one of the museum curators who fiddles with a burner phone for a moment then dumps it into a trash bin.

“Someone who’s keeping tabs on the Avengers would be aware of the fact that Bucky occasionally visits the museum; my hypothesis is whoever took the shot at Bucky paid that curator to notify them on the burner phone in the case that Bucky visited the museum again.”

Tony narrows his eyes, “Where did you get that footage. I thought I got all the footage. You know what, it doesn’t matter... Obviously I was just too busy working the other angles to look for your stupid super secret spy footage.”

I squint at the freeze frame, “wait is that— Adam you little shit, I knew you were bad news. The man is drenched in loathing and apathy the same way teenage boys are drenched in axe body spray.”

Natasha tears her amused expression away from Tony and his mini existential crisis, “right, you worked there. Did you ever notice anything else that was off about Adam?”

“Not really but I can tell you this much, my boss may be an idiot but he looks like a fucking genius compared to Adam. Twelve dollars says his dumbass left something incriminating on that burner phone.”

“Right! The phone! I’ll take it from here Tash,” Tony pats her shoulder and smirks, “nice work with the video recovery I’ll just go retrieve the hard evidence.”

Natasha matches his smirk with her own and wordlessly pulls the bagged burner phone out of her pocket, “don’t worry, I’ll let you process and log the _hard evidence_.”

Stark snatches the phone and storms out of the room muttering something about how no one appreciates him around here.

Steve clears his throat, “Well I guess I’ll just go talk to some of the local leos and get their take, Sam wanna come with?”

“Oh yeah I’m not sticking around to debrief Tony once he decides to stop pouting.”

Thor shoots Loki a look, “Loki and I feel it would be best for us to sweep the surrounding neighborhood! Right, Loki.”

“Come now brother, don’t you want to stick around to cheer— owe! Did you just elbow me in the ribs.”

After Thor finishes dragging Loki out it’s just Natasha, Clint, Wanda, Bruce, Bucky and I left. Everyone starts shooting each other glances and the tropical scent of anxiety begins to permeate the air.

“I think—”

“We should probably—”

“Well Tony likes you best so—”

“I just do the arrows around here!”

Bucky rolls his eyes but there is a faint smile tugging at his lips, “the kid and I were on the ground so it makes the most sense for both of us to go back to the scene and try to jog memories or something.”

“Wait! Bullets! I do bullets too,” Clint starts tugging on Natasha’s sleeve.

“Hey I may be a scientist but that doesn’t mean I don’t know bullets and… stuff.”

Wanda places her hand on Bruce’s shoulder and shakes her head.

“Clint and I will go see a man about some bullets while Wanda and Bruce hold down the fort! Perfect, everyone happy?” And with that Clint and her are out the door.

“I always get stuck on Tony duty,” Bruce groans.

Wanda rubs little circles on his back, “I know, Bruce.”

“Normal Tony is a lot but pouting Tony?! Ugh.”

“I know.”

Bucky and I quickly get up and he’s already halfway down the hallway by the time I get to the door, “uhh, my condolences? I’ll just—.” I quietly close the door behind me then take off after Bucky.

 

I slide into the elevator door right as it begins closing, "really, you were just going to leave me?" Bucky quirks an eyebrow and looks down at his foot that's still holding the elevator door open, "c'mon now doll, I invited you along I wouldn't just turn around and leave you behind."

The blush that crept its way across my face is still there by the time the elevator opens up to the garage floor.

Bucky strolls into the garage and leans against an armored truck that was probably undergoing maintenance seeing as its hood is still up, "pick a car."

"What?"

Bucky folds his arms across his chest, "Pick a car. The museum is four hours away on the road and I ride a motorcycle so unless you want to use this trip as an excuse to hold onto me and get a little touchy feely--"

"THAT ONE," I jab my finger in a random direction. God I hope there's a working car over there. I'm almost afraid to look. I peak over my shoulder and, "Tony's new hybrid SUV, nice choice kid."

"Not a kid," I huff as he tosses the keys to me.

Bucky stuffs his hands in his pockets and wanders into a back room, "alright, nice choice _doll_."

This is the worst. I'm going to die in a car ride on a road trip which is, arguably, one of the worst situations to die in. My cause of death won't even be cool, I'm going to get to the afterlife and all the other ghosts are gonna make fun of me. I'll be like _oh yeah, well Carl got crushed by a fridge_ and they'll be like _still a cooler death that dying of heart palpitations on a roadtrip with a broody hunk of an assassin, 0/10 you didn't even get to first base._

"Y/n."

I scramble back as I register Bucky's face which was suddenly a few inches from mine. Bucky's brows furrow and I finally get a good look at his eyes; they're a stormy slate blue but somehow they still feel warm.

"You alright? I've been calling you for a while now. You look a little pale, maybe I should take you back to see Banner."

"No!" I squeak out. "I'm totally fine I pinky swear and I take those very seriously because if you break one you have to cut your pinky off and I only have two of those. I mean I guess you could get a replacement with some of the new technology that's out these days but these are mine, y'know? We've been through some shit together and oh God I'm rambling like an idiot I'll just shut up now."

It's silent for a moment then the garage is filled  with Bucky's honeyed laughter, "you really are something else you know."


	7. You’re Literally Trapped in a Car with Me

I kick my feet up on the dashboard as Bucky begins to navigate us through the mountain pass. Smooth surfaces of rocks jut out of the mountainside while the rest of the mountain is covered with an array of greens and golden foliage with the occasional smattering of brightly colored wildflowers. “They’re like little purple thumbprints god left behind on the earth.”

Bucky arches an eyebrow, “what are you talking about?”

“C’mon you’re an elite super soldier with crazy good senses, didn’t you see the patches of purple wildflowers on the side of the mountain?”

“I wasn’t exactly looking at the scenery, I’m thinking about New York.”

“And about how it’s hours away? You said so yourself,” I fold one leg beneath me and turn to face him, “yes New York is important but it doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the here and now.”

Bucky adjusts his grip on the steering wheel and doesn’t say anything as a cocktail of negative emotions begins roiling off of him.

“Hey hey there isn’t anything about you being super focused I just wanted to say it’s ok to take these little moments for yourself.”

His grip on the wheel tightens and his jaw clenches, “yeah that’s really easy for someone like you to say. And did you just read me without my permission.”

Resting my hands in my lap I speak calmly, “yes I read your emotions but not intentionally. The more intense an emotion is the easier it is for me to pick it up whether I want to or not. Think of emotions as perfumes or body odor, you don’t get to choose what you want to smell and when you want to smell it. And what do you mean ‘someone like me’”.

He runs a hand through his hair and huffs, “You’re going to make me say it? Ok then. You may know what it’s like to have people want to use you but you have no idea what it is like to be used over and over to ruin innocent lives. You have no fucking clue what it’s like to live under the weight of your sins every. single. day.”

“Bucky you may be used to pushing people away but there are two problems. One, you’re literally trapped in a car with me, there is no ‘away’. And two, I wouldn’t leave even if it was an option. I can tell you don’t want to talk to me right now but I want you to think about this; how long are you going to keep punishing yourself for something you literally had no control over, and if this was anyone else would you be as hard on them? If the roles were reversed would you treat Steve the way you’re treating yourself right now? I know a little something about self-hatred and you may feel as though you’re giving yourself the retribution you deserve but this isn’t going to end well for you  **or** the people that care about you.”

“Also it’s really fucking stupid to tell an empath ‘you don’t know how I feel’ because that is literally my entire thing. I may be the only person on this dumb space rock that  _ can _ understand what you’re feeling.”

We spend the rest of the ride in silence and I force myself to sleep so I don’t accidentally ‘overfeel’ any emotions and give Bucky a little privacy to think.

 

It’s close to dusk when Bucky starts to shake me awake, “it looks like we’re spending the night. I’ll just call Tony and have him set something up.”

“Wait! I’ve got this, let me handle it,” I say as I rub the sleep from my eyes.

“I wouldn’t feel right mooching off you.”

“But you feel right ‘mooching’ off of Tony?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

“Mood. Ok here’s the deal, I still have my apartment and I kind of need to get back to it so think of it as you doing me a favor!”

“Alright lead the way I guess.”

 

We park the car a few blocks away from my apartment building and Bucky pulls on a black hoody then stuffs his hair into a ball cap on his head. The handful of streetlights are putting up a valiant effort to keep the street lit as the last few shops begin shutting down. We stop in front of a trendy coffee house named ‘ **_bean._ ** ’ Yes it’s in all lowercase bold italics, I know, believe me. I know.

“What the hell is this place and why the hell are we here?”

I sigh as I walk over to the side of the building, “because I live above this monstrosity.”

“What kind of name is  **_bean_ ** , wait. Don’t tell me this is  _ your—. _ ”

“You shut your hell mouth! You really think I— the fucking hipsters opened this place when they started to gentrify this shit ok, I’m innocent! And don’t forget the period after  **_bean_ ** because they get real irate about that shit.”

Bucky glances at the locked entrance, “so do you have your key because I need at least some sort of heads up before you expect me to pick a lock, doll.”

I roll my eyes and punch a few numbers into the box thingy by the door,  _ “WHO THE HELL IS IT. IT’S DAMN NEAR MIDNIGHT AND I’M TOO OLD FOR THIS BOOTY PHONE SHIT. Gerald I swear to—.” _

“Nana! It’s Y/n I was wondering —.”

_ “Yeah yeah you little shit, you forgot your keys again I’ll be right down.” _

We spend a few moments in silence as Bucky continuously scans the area. I cross my arms and nudge a discarded coffee cup off the stoop of the porch with my foot. 

Bucky clears his throat and decides to break the silence, “So, that was your grandmother?”

I snort and roll my eyes, “fuck no, my real grandmother is the literal devil, Nana is an angel.”

The door to the apartment building slams open and a little white haired woman steps down onto the porch and promptly canes my shin, “you’re damned right I am. Now come get your fucking baby, he won’t stop crying.”

After I finish rubbing my shin I give Nana a kiss on the top of her head and rush past her to call the elevator, “THANKS NANA I OWE YOU.”

“DAMN RIGHT YOU DO,” Nana gives Bucky a quick once over and folds her arms, “speak up kid you have something to say so say it.”

Bucky pales and just says, “baby?”

An amused glint finds Nana’s eyes, “yup. Wouldn’t stop crying the whole time. Even played its favorite cartoons. Better go join your girl, kid,” Nana yanks Bucky in and slams the door shut, “AND HOLD THE ELEVATOR.”


	8. Jello is for Wrestling and Shots, Not the Dinner Table

By the time the elevator gets to the ground floor I’m accompanied by one human cloud of anxiety and another human cloud of mischief. The door of the elevator groans open but only makes it about halfway; when it’s clear the door is not going to finish doing its damn job, I do what I always do and shove that bitch open.

“Move kid, elders first,” Nana grunts as she shoves Bucky and I to the side.

“I’m not sure you’re actually the oldest—,” Bucky jabs my side with a metal elbow, “oh shit was I talking outloud? Whatever, Nana you still haven’t told me your birthday.”

“I already told you I’ll be 82 in March,” she taps Bucky with her cane, “kid hit button four for us and try pinching your cheeks to get some color back into them. You look like a ghost.”

“BULLSHIT, last year you said you’d be 76 in May.”

“Ooh let's go with that one, makes me younger.”

Once the elevator stutters to a halt at the fourth floor I shove the door open and Nana leaves Bucky and I behind in the hallway.

Bucky pulls me to the side by the elbow, “sheesh what is with you and the elbows today.”

“Y/n I’m serious—.”

“Yah, so am I. You know I looked for her birth certificate to settle this once and for all and it was _missing_ —”

“Not about the age thing,” he sighs as he covers his face, “you didn’t tell me you had a baby.”

I shrug my shoulders and begin making my way down the hallway, “you didn’t ask.”

“That seems like the kind of thing you bring up on your own.”

“To your kidnapper? Oh man you need to redo your super secret spy schooling cause even I know that is a no-no.”

“I thought we had gotten past this!”

We come to a stop in front of one of the dark green doors that lines the hallway. That’s when I feel the guilt, fear, and a hint of desperation that’s radiating from the man in front of me. This doesn’t make any sense, I mean it’s just my— _baby_. Oh shit, that’s what’s going on. Pulling his hands into mine I speak in what I hope is a soothing voice, “hey honey, it’s alright. I have forgiven you for that whole kidnapping thing and I promise you Cabbage is alright. Take all the time you want but I promise you he’s going to love you.”

After rubbing a few more circles in the back of his hand, I make my way into Nana’s apartment.

“Wait. Did you say Cabbage.”

When Bucky finally steps into the apartment I make sure he is met face to face with, “CABBAGE!”

Bucky leans back to get an actual look at what I’m shoving in his face, “a cat. Why didn’t you just tell me it was a cat?!”

I cuddle Cabbage to my chest but before I can speak Bucky interrupts me, “and **don’t you dare say it’s because I didn’t ask.** ”

“Great you met the baby,” Nana lobs a set of keys at me and thank god Bucky is quick to catch them because I sure couldn’t have.

“Thanks Nana!”

“Out!”

She flops into a chair with a beer and begins flipping through channels and I go to unlock my apartment door across the hallway.

“Thank you and have a good night ma’am,” Bucky says awkwardly, but when he begins to exit the apartment Nana stops him.

“She’s full of shit you know,” Nana says as she takes another sip of her beer.

Bucky stares at Nana wide-eyed, “pardon.”

Nana finally settles on some docuseries about giant murderous catfish and finishes off her beer. “‘Abby’,” she says with exaggerated air quotes, “is full of shit.” She finally faces Bucky and seems to stare right through his soul, “She’s full of shit and her life is full of shit but she’s a good girl. So if you _add_ anymore shit to her life I will find you and kill you.”

With that she reclines back into her battered chair and kicks her feet up, “nice meeting you kid, be a doll and lock the door on your way out.”

 

After I settle Cabbage back in I lean out of the door to check on Bucky, “don’t tell me you got lost already.” Bucky shakes his head and walk over to my apartment, he does a quick scan of the surroundings and begins to walk deeper into the apartment before I grab his arm.

“Nope, I don’t care how cute you are. Shoes off at the door,” that’s when I finally see the confused fear on his face, “damn, I’d recognize that look anywhere, Nana threatened to kill you didn’t she? Don’t take it too personal she also threatened to kill the guy that was here to fix the garbage disposal. Wasn’t even her disposal, she’s just like that.”

After Bucky finishes sweeping my apartment he meets me back at the kitchen island where I’m prepping dinner. He stands there awkwardly before asking if I need any help.

“Don’t take this the wrong way but I don’t trust you in the kitchen.”

Bucky sets his jaw as he glances at the chefs knife I’m using to break down a chicken, “I understand, it’s probably for the best.”

A wave of self loathing prompts me to look up from my cutting board and I begin to piece things together.

“Oh _Jesus Christ_ , it’s not like that.”

He looks away from me, “it’s ok you don’t have to explain anything, I know what I’ve done.”

I dump the last of the chicken in the pan next to me then turn to level a glare at Bucky. He looks so small in my tiny apartment but all of the feelings running through him make up for the way he’s shrinking into himself by flooding both the apartment and my senses.

After taking a moment to damp out the static I sigh, “you were born in the era of the cooking apron. That means you probably entered a kitchen all of five times and four of those times were to get handed snacks. I’m not gonna watch you grate your fingertips off, no way, cooking lessons are for another day,” Bucky quirks an eyebrow at me. “Also wasn’t your generation like really into gelatin because if you jello my chicken I swear to God I’ll kick your ass. And another thing—.”

“Ok doll I get it,” he says as he breaks down laughing, “jello your chicken? Really?”

I finally finished getting everything into the oven when I turn to my friend that’s still laughing at my island but has managed to find his way onto a stool as he does so. Leaning into the counter I hold my head up with one arm and reach out to wipe a tear that has formed in the corner of Bucky’s eye. He stiffens and every part of him wants to jerk himself away but he manages to let me into his space in a way he didn’t think was possible anymore.

“Did you...”

“No I didn’t influence you,” I say with a little smile, “also Cabbage is going to attack you.”

“He isn’t even in the room,” he says as he begins to look around.

“You’re right, he is currently in the silly zone ™.”

“Did you just say ™ out loud,” Bucky deadpans.

Out of the corner of my eye I see a blur of calico fur as Cabbage races down the hallway and launches himself at Bucky, “sure did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve defeated my writers block. Were you as surprised about Cabbage as Bucky was? Are you glad that “the baby” isn’t a real baby? What do you think of Nana? I’m going to get better about reading comments so please drop me a line!


	9. Tactical Air Mattress Placement

Bucky manages to pry Cabbage off his leg and settle him into his lap, "you do realize I could have killed him right."

"So could a well aimed fridge."

Bucky tries to stop shaking and gives me an incredulous look, "do you not understand what I am?”

"Bucky I trust you, Cabbage trusts you, you need to learn to trust yourself."

He sets down an indignant Cabbage and walks back to the living room, "yeah well you'll regret that just like everyone else."

"No I won't! Dinner will be ready soon so wash your hands, pick a drink, and find something good to watch on TV or else I'm picking from my private collection."

That finally gets him to crack a smile, "'private collection' on our first date, doll?"

Wrapping my arms around his waist I give him a quick side hug, "there he is, that's the Bucky I know and love- well, I mean we met like 2 days ago so love but not _love_ because that would be weird. I mean you're cute but this isn't a lifetime movie and thank God for that because if it was there would definitely be a crazy mistress and/or a missing baby and babies are a major responsibility and who's to say I would be the main chick I mean I could end up being the crazy mistress and oh God I'm rambling again."

Cabbage claws my leg to get me to pick him up and I silently thank him for the distraction.

"You still haven't shown me this private collection of yours," amusement glimmers in his eyes.

"Right!" I push Cabbage onto my shoulder and open the cabinets beneath the TV, "TAH-DAH. Here is where I would normally do jazz hands but I don't want to get mauled so you'll have to imagine them."

Bucky crouches down next to me and begins browsing through my collection, "these are all… cartoons?"

"Mhm. Well most of them are." The kitty jumps down and pads away so I'm free to scoot closer to the cabinets.

He picks up a movie with unnerving picture of a bloodied marionette in a girls arms on the cover. "Yeah this one doesn't seem like one for the kids. I didn't really peg you for the horror type."

"Don't get me wrong I'm a total coward but they're so cool y'know! Wait, you don't know do you? Holy shit we have to watch all of the scary movies."

"We had Frankenstein back then, alright. How bad could it be,” he snorts and pulls a random movie from the shelf, “I'll go make our plates while you put that thing on."

By the time I finish setting up the TV Bucky is back with both our plates and chipmunk cheeks.

"This is— doll I’m about one apple pie away from asking you to go steady.”

“Apple pie? Shouldn’t that be Steve’s thing,” I say as I take my place on the couch next to him.

Bucky rolls his eyes at me and that’s when I finally take a look at the movie he chose, “uhhh are you sure you want this to be your first horror film”.

“C’mon now doll if you’re scared all you have to do is say so,” he says with a smirk, “don’t worry if you get scared you can hide behind me like you did at the museum.”

“Oh you are so on,” I turn off the last light in the room and hit play before muttering, “why do I feel like Tony is going to kill me.”

After the last credits rolled I shut off the TV and turn the lights back on, “so what did you think?”

Bucky looks about five shades paler but he still shrugs and try to play it off, “yeah it wasn’t all that bad.”

“You know I’m an empath right? I can tell you’re scared.”

“It’s just sympathetic fear, I’m afraid cause you’re afraid,” he reasons.

“Well then, I guess I’ll take the couch—.”

“Nope.”

“You’ll take the couch?”

“NOPE. I mean, there’s still someone out there who took a shot at one of us, we should really be in the same room because it’s safer… tactically.”

I laugh and wave for him to follow me, “it’s alright, lucky for you I have an air mattress we can _tactically_ place in my room.”

“Oh thank god.”

 

The next morning, my apartment is filled with a sweet smell I follow into the kitchen where Bucky is appraising the spread he set out on the table; pancakes, bacon, eggs, coffee, and juice.

“Holy mother of breakfasts I don’t have to cook for myself,” I start fixing my plate, “good lord the syrup is even warm.”

“Guess I did learn something the fifth time I went into the kitchen,” he says with smug satisfaction.

“Don't be rude, smartass,” I throw a piece of pancake at him, “you know I was totally going to propose to you just now but then you ruined it so I’m taking my hypothetical proposal back.”

“I’m sure I’ll get a second chance,” he laughs, “I’m going to take a quick shower then we can go over the mission over breakfast.”

“Anything you say pancake fairy, just make sure you dry off really well or Cabbage will follow you around to ‘properly’ dry you!”

 

“Your cat is licking my ankles.”

“I warned you didn’t I?!”

Bucky rolls his eyes and pulls out an old museum pamphlet, “so the plan is—.”

“Wait don’t tell me!” I jump up from the table, “we’re going to scan the building then crawl through the air vents to place surveillance devices of varying kinds. Or we’ll use the scans to create a holographic re-enactment and build a profile of our shooter. I could go on forever and these are all golden ideas but I would appreciate some feedback.”

“Or,” Bucky presses the worn out pamphlet into my hand and smiles at me, “we could just take a tour.”

 

Half an hour later I’m standing at the foot of the museum with coffee and coms on hand while Bucky waits to walk in separate from me.

“Just so you know, this is the lamest fucking plan.”

“I’m impressed, most rookies instinctively press their earpiece and blow their cover immediately,” Bucky muses.

“This isn’t a goddamn spy film,” I snort, “if Tony can’t make an earpiece that doesn’t have hands off capabilities I would personally strip him of the title ‘Iron Man’ and he would be Radio Shack Man.”

“Radio Shack?”

“Don’t worry man, people in this generation don’t even know about radio shack. Also I’m breaking Adam’s fucking nose”.

It better be someone cool manning the ticket booth; maybe I could flash my badge to get in for free I mean I still have the thing and my firing was all kinds of illegitimate, I could probably sue.

“Welcome back to the museum ma’am,” a brunette with thick glasses and a wide smile is sitting behind the ticket counter.

Not just any brunette though, “Brenda my sweet daughter who I love with my entire being, how are you today?”

The com crackles to life, “laying it on thick are we.”

Must resist the urge to roll my eyes, ignore the mosquito in my ear and focus on Brenda.

“Mom,” Brenda sniffles, “Abby I fucking missed you, everyone else here is so full of themselves.”

“I know honey, and I’m sorry but I’m not sticking around I’m just here to get my stuff. I got the boot after my near death incident on the job.”

Brenda glares up at me with watery eyes, “are you fucking serious? I am going to kill Wendell.”

“Your boss’s name is _Wendell_?” Bucky snickers through the com.

“Brenda you still have a job to think of,” I reach under the glass to hold her hands, “let me kill Windbag.”

“ _Windbag_? I almost feel bad for this guy.”

I pat her hands one last time, “imagine carrying a child for nine months just to turn around and name it Wendell. Even his parents knew he was going to grow up to be a little shit.”

Brenda laughs through her sniffles, “so does your keycard still work?”

I thumb my lanyard, “doubt it, Wendell fired me with the swiftness. I’m sure he took me out of the system already too.”

Brenda starts furiously typing then yanks my card forward to swipe it, “eat shit Wendell.”

“Hello, ow? This thing is still around my neck you know! And don’t tell me you just did what I think you did because if so you are so fired.”

“Technically I didn’t do anything,” she says with a smirk, “Adam on the other hand…”

“That’s how I raised you! Also, you wouldn’t happen to know where Adam is at the moment would you? I just want to talk to him I swear.”

“Probably hiding under the stairwell and swiping through tinder,” she says blandly.

“Thanks Angel! You have my number, if you need any bodies buried call me!”

 

“Just want to talk?” Bucky says over the coms.

“Violence is a language, it isn’t my problem if he isn’t fluent.”

“Nice job getting your keycard reactivated by the way.”

“Brenda is the one that did it, not me,” I say nonchalantly.

“You couldn’t have gotten me a pass too?”

“Nah I could have, I just didn’t want to. I mean the plan is so much more _authentic_ this way.”

Bucky sighs, “we didn’t need to do all of that extra stuff doll, boots to the pavement and if that doesn’t work then we consider using the shiny toys.”

“ **Let me play with the holograms you coward.** ”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back! Also I will tell you which horror movie it was in one of the future chapters but if you can guess it I’ll be really fucking impressed.
> 
>  
> 
> hint: Tony was mentioned so it has to do with technology


	10. Do We Look Like the Fucking Police?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter update than I would like but I wanted to get something out! Thank you for reading, I promise more is on the way!

The first thing, besides the gift shop, you see when you enter the museum is this larger than life rendition of Captain America shielding Lady Liberty in some fictional firefight. The whole thing looks like a cheesy comic book cover but it impresses the kids and gets the adults feeling all tingly and patriotic so I guess it's impressive in its own way. Walking past the Howling Commandos exhibit I pause in front of Bucky's own display, this thing was always riddled with errors but Wendell would never let me change anything because I "didn't have any proof". I wonder if bringing the man himself in to fact-check would be enough "proof" for Wendell. Oh well, the perfectionist in me will have to wait.

Walking past the general WW2 display I leave the floor altogether and make a beeline for Cassanova's little hideaway under the staircase.

Adam's thin form is right where Brenda said he would be, polluting the air under the stairwell with apathy and the smell of stale cigarette smoke.

I cross my arms and wait to see how long it takes him to notice me. It isn't until I start tapping my foot that I finally get a response.

" _ Yes _ those are the final prices in the gift shop,  _ no _ I do not know when or if Captain America will be making a surprise appearance,  _ no _ I will not 'notify you when I hear something'".

"Really, Adam," I roll my eyes.

"Listen lady, this is a restricted area," he finally looks up from his phone, "oh, it's just you. Didn't they fire you."

"Don't you fucking dare go right back on Tinder. 'Just me' has a few questions for you," I swipe his phone and shove it into my back pocket.

"Listen Andrea if you wanted me to feel up your ass that badly, you just had to ask. You don't have to steal my phone babe," he smirks and gives me a quick once over, "It kind of makes you look desperate."

A thick fog of loathing rolls in as Bucky takes his place beside me under the stairwell. Adam's aura of apathy is slowly turning into one of anxiety but he makes no move to show it.

" _ This _ is Adam," Bucky asks clearly unimpressed, "I can see you thinking about reaching for that phone but I can tell that won't end well."

Adam crosses his arms, "I-I don't know what you mean. Amanda has my phone."

"He's lying right?" Bucky asks me.

"Oh yeah, big time."

"I just wanted to get a second opinion before I took things to the next level. It's only fair, right Adam?" Bucky closes the gap between himself and where Adam seems to be trying to become one with the wall. "You're a terrible liar, y'know that right," he slings his arm —pretty sure it's the metal one— over Adam's shoulder, "who gave you the phone, kid."

Adam puffs his chest up with false courage, "you know what, maybe we should let security handle this."

"You'd kick him out of his own museum?" I say with an exaggerated gasp.

"What the hell are you talking about April, this asshole isn't Steve Rogers," Adam spits out.

"Yeah I'm not Stevie," Bucky ruffles Adam's hair, "but I do happen to know the little punk."

Adam finally takes a moment to actually look at the man that's two steps away from putting him into a chokehold, "B-Bucky Barnes?"

"The one and only," he gives him a little wink from beneath his baseball cap, "now why don't you tell me who asked you to keep tabs on me."

"I plead the fifth," Adam blanches.

"Oh my- Good lord Adam, do we look like the fucking police? We aren't here to arrest you. Spell constitution and maybe I'll consider accepting your plea."

Adam blinks at me owlishly for a few moments then smirks, "yeah well which one of us still has our job."

I roll my eyes and turn to Bucky, "you see what I mean? This kid's a total fucking asshole."

Before Adam can open his smart mouth again I summon an overwhelming amount of guilt, sense of honor, and empathy to drown him in. His eyes well up and glaze over as he adjusts to accommodate the new influx emotions. At this point he goes slack and Bucky has to support some of his weight, "Jesus doll did you kill him?"

"He's fine, he's just emotionally immature so this was a lot for him to handle. Give him a second."

Bucky slaps Adam's cheeks a few times and checks his breathing. A few minutes pass and when he still hasn't responded Bucky begins to scowl at me while I sheepishly avoid looking anywhere but at this incredibly fascinating ceiling.

 

Adam coughs a few times and I clap, "see! I told you I didn't kill him!"

"I didn't know he was going to shoot up the place," Adam says as a tear trickles down his cheek.

"You didn't know who was going to shoot up the place? Who was this man?" I crouch down and make eye contact with Adam to comfort him through his first journey of personal accountability.

"He didn't tell me a name he just promised to wire me thirty grand if I followed through."

"Did he wire you the money?"

"Yeah," he sniffles, "he also gave me a new burner in case Bucky ever showed up again since he missed the shot. He said something about earning his way back in."

"Earning his way back into where, did he mention Hydra," Bucky begins interrogating him.

"I don't know, all I know is thirty grand is thirty grand," Adam begins to sob.

Bucky drops Adam and storms off leaving me with Adam who pulls his knees to his chest and keeps sniffling in some poor attempt to handle his flow of tears.

"Adam, I understand you needed the money and to be honest I can't really blame you for taking it," I move over to rub his back, "are you sure there isn't anything else you can remember that might help us? These probably aren't people we can just leave to the police."

He shakes his head and hides his face, "that's the only thing I remember."

"Ok, I believe you," I give him a little squeeze then stand up to go find Bucky.

"Wait,” Adam mumbles into his legs, “Wendell talked to him after he gave me the second phone.” He fishes out a burner phone out from somewhere and offers it to me.

I kneel down to accept the phone and beam at Adam, "Thank you Adam, you did the right thing here. You should be really proud of yourself."

He sniffled away a few more tears and offers up a watery smile, "Thanks. And I'm sorry for… y'know…"

"It's ok Adam I forgive you," I stand back up and slide the burner phone into my jacket pocket.

"You know…. you're actually not that bad Angie."

I hold back my retort and give a small nod of appreciation. 

"... and you do have a great ass," he gives me another once over.

"BYE ADAM," I flip him off over my shoulder as I make a beeline for my old office. 

"I'D LOVE TO BUT I DON'T HAVE YOUR NUMBER."


	11. It’s Like Hey There Delilah (but in Reverse)

Cursing under my breath I round the corner and run directly into Bucky.

"Hey, I'm sorry about losing my cool back—"

"It's fine Bucky," I brush past him and move to unlock the door to my office. 

"—there. Jesus Christ doll you didn't run into me that hard, did you?"

I quirk an eyebrow and pull him into my office, "no?"

Bucky's concerned look turns into something hard and unreadable as he looks at the door, "did he touch you."

"What the hell are you talking about?”

Bucky reaches behind me and pulls a tissue from my desk to gently press against my nose, “you’re bleeding.”

After a few moments of awkward silence he finally lets me take over the tissue for my nosebleed.

“I haven’t had one of these since I was a kid,” I chuckled. I sit behind my desk and dump out my coffee cup filled with pens on the table. Bucky watches as I scoop the pens up and put them back into the cup, “what are you doing?”

I hold up the thumb drive that was sitting at the bottom of the cup and start up my work computer, “Wendell may know something about our mystery shooter and knowing him he won’t say anything unless it benefits him in some way so I’m getting us a little leverage.”

“I could just rattle him a little bit,” Bucky swallows nervously, “what leverage do you even have on this thing.”

After I finish downloading the file named _Three Day Weekend_ onto the thumb drive I pull out a screwdriver and remove the side panel of the computer tower then pry out the hard drive. “Oh you know what the Girl Scouts motto is,” I crush the hard drive beneath the heel of my boot, “be prepared.” I dust my hands off and toss the thumb drive to a newly pale Bucky, “oh it was just a hard drive, I’ve seen you guys crush buildings.”

Bucky slips into the hallway and begins walking at a brisk pace, “Wendell’s office is this way right? Right. Let's go.”

It finally clicks and I begin to giggle, “movie night still has you shook doesn’t it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bucky snorts, “were you really a Girl Scout?”

Now it’s my turn to snort, “fuck no, do I seem like the Girl Scout type to you?”

 

Slamming the door open I glare at the weasel of a man sat behind the desk in front of me, “Wendell.”

“I thought you wanted to handle things quietly,” Bucky groans as he smooths his face with his hands.

I blink a few times before replying, “I never said that.”

“Why else would you get leverage instead of letting me shake a little information out of him?!”

“Ms. Brennan and company, what in the world do you think you are doing barging into my office like this,” Wendell says not bothering to hide his irritation.

“Please, call me Abby,” I give a little mock bow, “Ms. Brennan is my mother.”

Bucky covers his face with his palm while Wendell only grows more irritable, “hiring you was a mistake.”

“Yeah? Well, no takesies backsies.”

“I fired you.”

“It’s not the same thing and you know it!” I jab my finger at him.

Bucky sighs and moves me from in front of Wendell before our argument can go any further, “I was shot at the last time I was at your museum, now is your chance to tell me what you know.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” Wendell sniffs dismissively.

“Oh for fucks sake Wendell, do the right thing for once,” I groan.

“You abandoned your guests after they had a near death experience. I will not be lectured on what is _right_ by the likes of you, Ms. Brennan.”

I cover my face, “A. That was not my fault, B. You _fired_ me after my near death experience, without even checking to see if I was ok. Did you ever stop to think that maybe I was in some sort of trouble?”

“You are right, I am so sorry Ms. Brennan,” he folds his hands on his desk and gives me a sympathetic look, “you wouldn’t happen to have a timestamp of when said trouble started, I would like to make sure you are compensated the _appropriate_ amount for your final day of employment.”

“The man really is a weasel,” Bucky remarks.

“I prefer _astute businessman_ ,” Wendell smirks.

“Shut up weasel, I know about Cabo.”

All the color drains from Wendell’s face, “you know nothing.”

I pull the flash drive out of Bucky’s pocket and give Wendell an angelic smile, “you sure about that? Are you absolutely sure, Wendell. Because you and I both know this isn’t a risk you should be taking.”

Wendell’s jaw ticks and his eyes stay trained on the flash drive in my hand, “what do you want to know.”

“Firstly,” Bucky places both his palms on the desk and looks Wendell in the eye, “You could tell us who wanted you to keep tabs on me.”

“His name is Leonard, we grew up together.”

“So this is a friend of yours,” Bucky probes.

“Absolutely not.”

“Then why were you helping him?” I ask.

“I owe the man a debt.” 

I stare Wendell down and gesture for him to continue with the flash drive, “And he is positively drowning in cash.”

Bucky pushes a pen and a pad of paper in front of Wendell, “just write everything you know about this guy down. And don’t leave anything out because I’ll know and then both of our days will be ruined. I can promise you that.”

Once Wendell finishes scribbling down everything he knows about the guy I toss him the flash drive, “thanks Wendell, I knew you had it in you to do the right thing.”

 

After a tearful goodbye with Brenda I meet Bucky at the car, “where to next superspy guy?”

“Steve and Sam finished up their end of things so all of us are going to fly back to hq together.”

I hum in acknowledgement, “well it’s been fun, definitely one of my more pleasant kidnapping experiences.”

“So are you going to try to find another museum job? God knows New York has plenty of places for you eggheads.”

The car slows to a stop and I put my hand on Bucky’s, “oh honey I’m not staying in New York. You know better than anyone. My face was in the news, on the papers, and online. Abigail Brennan is dead, I have to relocate and create a new alias.”

This time I have my key to let us back into my building and the elevator door seems to open without a problem. It’s almost like the universe is trying to fast forward our goodbye. 

“What do you think about Sasha? Or maybe Gwen, I could totally pull off Gwen,” I joke trying to pull Bucky out of his sulking and back to reality.

“You do know the point of burning an identity is to make sure no one from your old life can find you so asking me to help you pick a new alias kind of defeats that point, right?”

“Or maybe Delilah! You know that song _hey there Delilah what’s it like in New York City_ it will be like that — but in reverse— ‘cause I’m leaving New York,” I muse as I unlock my apartment door.

The first thing I notice is the thick miasma of malevolence clouding my apartment, then the small click to my right, and finally Bucky pulling me to the ground and shielding me as my apartment is engulfed in flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no cabbages were harmed in the making of this film


	12. I Paid Taxes Once

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy it has been a minute but for the life of me I couldn’t get this chapter right. It’s ok we’ll be back at the compound soon enough and that’s where the fun happens. Thank you for your patience!!

"I think I see them over there."

"Did you get the other civilians out of the building?"

"Yeah Cap, for the most part the blast was localized to her apartment so the other tenants were unaffected."

I feel someone shaking my shoulder and the ringing in my head only gets worse as I come to.

"Hey little lady, can you hear me," Sam is crouched before me in the rubble checking my vitals.

Closing my eyes I try to block out the pounding in my head, "yes."

"Sam is she awake?" Bucky pushes past Steve to come over to where Sam and I are.

Sam finishes tending to me and turns to the other two avengers, "she's conscious and probably has a concussion but she'll be fine with a little rest. Banner gave me this new med-pac that should speed things up so we'll be able to move out soon."

"The bigger problem is we don't know who's behind this," Steve begins thinking out loud, "is it the gang catching up to her or is it related to the museum and that Leonard guy."

"It doesn't fucking matter, let's just go and we can play super sleuths someplace more defensible," Bucky snaps.

"It wasn't Alex," I say in a small voice, "he doesn't want me dead."

"Alex?" Sam turns back to me.

Bucky carefully helps me up but when I have trouble balancing he just opts to carry me bridal style instead. "Again, a conversation to be had somewhere that isn't on fire."

Steve nods, "Bucky's right, let's get back to the tower, it's safer for both us and the civilians plus we can discuss things with everyone."

I get Bucky's attention by tugging his jacket so I don't have to speak loudly, "my baby."

"Shit," he freaks out and starts looking around while trying not to move me too much, "her baby."

Sam's eyebrows shoot up and Steve coughs, "baby? She has a baby?!"

I let out a soft laugh and tug Bucky's jacket again, "he's with Nana." Bucky nods and walks across the hall, the door is slightly scorched but other than that you couldn’t really tell it was adjacent to an actual live bomb. Before we can knock the door swings open and Nana has her cane at Bucky’s neck, “what’d I say you little shit.”

Steve quickly comes over to play peacemaker, “ma’am can I ask you to please lower your cane.”

Nana narrows her eyes but doesn’t move an inch, “sure can, doesn’t mean anything’s gonna happen though.”

“Steve it’s alright,” Bucky says calmly, “why don’t you and Sam go get the car ready.”

“Are you sure?” Steve takes one last concerned look at the cane to his friend’s throat. 

“Positive. I’ve got this,” Bucky keeps his eyes trained on Nana as Steve and Sam slowly back away. 

Once the hallway is left with just the three of us she finally lowers her cane, “well?”

“Nana he had nothing to do with this I swear!”

She keeps her eyes locked on Bucky’s, “I wasn’t talking to you ya idiot.”

“I don’t know who did this but I give you my word I will do everything in my power to keep her safe.”

Nana drums her fingers on her cane, “you’ve done a pretty shit job of it so far.”

“Uhh that’s not true, he literally shielded me from the blast with his body,” I say leaning forward.

Nana flicks me in the forehead and hums, “you’ve got such a serious look on your face, kid.” Taking one last look at Bucky she sighs, “well I’m not her mother so if she wants to go with you she can go with you. But you’re taking the fucking cat.”

Bucky nods, “don’t worry I’ll take good care of her and Cabbage.”

“I’ll go get the little bastard right now. Oh and fair warning they can both be a handful, her especially, so don’t you come crying back to me and say I didn’t warn you.”

“She’s already stirred up the tower but it’s been mostly harmless.”

Wriggling from Bucky’s arms I stomp past Nana and scoop up Cabbage, “I am  **_right_ ** here, I can  **hear** you!”

“Never said you couldn’t, dearie,” Nana snickers.

“Should you really be up like that?” Bucky scans my figure for signs of weakness but I’ve got a point to prove damn it.

“Anything you can do I can do better,” god dammit  _ that’s _ what I came up with? How did I survive all these years on the run. Oh well, inner monologue time over we just gotta roll with it real smooth like. Pushing Cabbage onto my shoulder I stroll out into the hallway and throw a glance over my shoulder, “you coming?” Nailed it.

 “Guess that’s your queue kid. Now scram, I’ve got to go knit or do whatever it is you think old people do,” Nana nods at us one last time then slams the door shut hard enough to rattle the crunchy remnants of my over-cooked door.

We walk down the corridor towards the staircase when on a whim I decide to hit the elevator button. In all likelihood the explosion was the deathblow to that piece of crap so I’m not sure why I’m bothering  _ and _ the door slides open effortlessly. “No way. No. Way.”

Bucky turns back with a curious look on his face, “oh hey, the elevator works. Did you want to take that instead?”

“This thing has been on the verge of broken since dinosaurs roamed the earth and now it’s working just fine?!” I step into the elevator fuming, “betrayal, now that I’m leaving you want to behave?? Do you know how many loads of laundry I hauled up the stairs these past few years?”

Bucky arches an eyebrow in amusement and watches me jab the lobby button, “how many loads, doll?”

I freeze, “oh god, I am an adult. I paid taxes once. I am very mature but OH BOY I gotta call out phrasing on that one.”

“Phrasing?” he asks as the elevator door slides open. 

“It’s an American thing you wouldn’t get it.”

“I’m from Brooklyn!”

“Shhh, I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

“Ahh there they are, told you Cap,” Sam says with a smirk, “just follow the shouting.”

“Are you two ready? W-Where’s the baby,” Steve’s forehead is covered with a thin sheen of sweat. 

I lean over to Bucky and pull his collar so he comes close enough for me to whisper, “is Steve supposed to be that color?”

Bucky coughs in a poor attempt to hide a laugh and whispers back, “he’s always nervous around babies at first.”

“I think this is the best day of my life.”

“You were just blown up?!”

“One hundred percent worth it. Look how clammy he is!”

“Ok it is a little funny.”

“Are you two done whispering over there? We’ve got places to be,” Sam says rolling his eyes. 

“Shouldn’t we- we need a car seat,” Steve looks around frantically. 

“Oh my god this is precious,” I coo, “I almost want to have an actual baby just to torment you all.”

Sam looks at the furry parrot on my shoulder and puts two and two together, “oh that’s not right, you’re going to give Cap a heart attack.” His words may be stern but any impact is lost when he cracks and starts laughing alongside us. Sam shakes his head and circles around to the driver side of the car, “come on you guys can prank each other on the jet ride back.” 

“Prank?” Steve’s still lost, standing there on the street blinking owlishly as he looks to us for an explanation. Bucky pulls him into a faux headlock and starts walking to the car, “don’t worry Stevie, we’ll just have the baby ride in your lap.”

I watch in amusement as Steve tries to bargain with Bucky only to end up sulking in the back seat. Sliding into the car I buckle in and carefully place Cabbage in Steve’s shaky lap, “Captain America I would like to formally introduce you to my baby. His name is Cabbage, he hates it when people sneeze, and he loves watching Ponyo.”

.

.

.

“Tony is my new best friend,” he scratches Cabbage behind the ear.

“Aww c’mon Stevie you gotta admit that was pretty good,” Bucky laughs, “you’d’ve done it to me!”

Steve rolls his eyes and goes back to playing with Cabbage. 

“Wait wait wait,” Sam narrows his eyes at me through the rear view mirror, “how do you know he likes Ponyo?” 

Bucky turns towards me, “you know I meant to ask you about that too. Nana said something about his ‘favorite cartoons’ can you talk to animals or something? You holding out on me, doll?”

“Pfft come on, you guys are smart,” I point to myself, “me empath,” then at Cabbage, “cat have feeling.”

“Bullshit! My sister had this cat growing up and that demon did  **_not_ ** have feelings,” Sam says.

“You’re radiating a lot of chaotic feelings right now,” one of them being fear but I’ll keep that between us, “you want to talk about it?”

“Nope.”

“You sure?” I lean forward between the seats.

Sam throws the car in park and smooshes me back, “Oh hey look, a jet, we’re here!”

The three of us watch Sam dart away and Steve laughs, “ok that  _ is _ kind of funny.”

Bucky and I share a look, “nah, yours was still way better. Oh! Oh! Does this car have a dash cam?! Cause if it does the video is so going up on YouTube.”

“Sorry doll, I don’t think Tony got to put one in yet,” Bucky gives me a sympathetic look as I sigh and climb out of the car. 

He’s lying. It’s cute that he thinks he can lie to me but I’ll let him get away with it for now because the bond between those two seems a little lighter and more honeyed at that moment. . . I will get that video though.


End file.
